


V. Bound By Need

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Established Relationship, Kinks, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-13
Updated: 2006-08-13
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam deals with the aftermath of a hunt gone bad. Fifth of the Trust Series.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** \- Bound by Need - V. Trust Series  
 **Author:** Shorts  
 **Pairings/Character:** Dean/Sam  
 **Rating:** NC17  
 **Category:** Slash  
 **Word Count:** 3243  
 **Spoilers:** None  
 **Note** Indulging myself again with the boys and their kinks. *g* Light on plot (hands out magnifying glasses) and heavy on sex. Fifth of the Trust Series.

BOUND BY NEED  
By Shorts

Dean slammed the car door and took a moment to try and calm down as Sam got in the passenger side. This last hunt had been bad. Whenever children were involved it was bad. If he could, he would kill that fucking monster over and over again. 

“Dean?” Sam studied his brother, noting the thin line of his lips and the hard glint in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” snapped Dean. He pushed down his anger and almost overwhelming fury, and he started the Impala, scattering dirt and gravel.

Sam kept his attention on the road ahead of them. He didn’t need to look at Dean to know his brother was keeping everything closed in, allowing it to eat at him to the point of self destruction.

As hard as they tried, they couldn’t save everyone. It hurt, particularly when the victim was a small, innocent girl. Dean always held himself personally responsible when they lost someone while on a hunt. It didn’t matter if there had been nothing they could have done, he still shouldered the blame.

When Sam had taken it upon himself to help reconnect Dean, as his brother puts it, he had thought he had all the tell tale signals down pat. Until the third bar fight had erupted with Dean smack in the middle of it, he had discovered Dean had found a more mundane outlet for his need.

It had taken a great amount of brow beating to get Dean to finally admit he had felt he had been using him. Believing Sam was only participating because he felt an obligation to him. Sometimes, the boy just didn’t listen or pay attention. But this wasn’t like all those other times when the horror gradually built up and Dean needed an outlet to regain his humanity. His brother was feeling all too human and seeking retribution for misplaced blame was not the answer. 

Clenching his teeth together, Dean had the pedal flush against the floor, wishing he could out run the guilt that was smothering him. He wanted to race into the night without stopping, but they had left their stuff back at the motel. Even he wasn’t stupid enough to leave the few possessions they had behind.

Just when Sam was about to suggest Dean ease up on the pedal, the car started to slow, but they still flashed past the town limit sign. Pulling into the motel parking lot, Sam felt a sense of relief wash over him. He didn’t fear being road kill, not with Dean’s driving, but maybe now he’d have a chance to deal with Dean’s self inflicted guilt. He barely had the car door open when Dean had already exited the car and was shoving the room key into the lock.

Taking two strides into the room, Dean grabbed the closest duffel bag and started cramming their stuff into it, almost spilling the entire contents instead.

“Dean,” said Sam, stepping into the room and closing the door. He bent over and picked up a couple items that had been fallen to the floor in Dean’s haste.

“Get the rest of our stuff out of the bathroom,” ordered Dean, gathering Sam’s scribbled notes off the table.

“Dean,” repeated Sam, his voice a little louder and harder, as he tried to get Dean’s attention.

“What?” snapped Dean, pausing to glare at Sam.

“Stop,” said Sam, taking a small step toward him.

“Are you going to help me get our shit in the car, or not?” demanded Dean, slinging the heavy duffel bag over his shoulder.

“In the morning, yeah,” answered Sam, trying to block Dean’s escape without appearing to do so.

“Fuck the morning,” growled Dean, brushing past Sam. “We’re leaving now.”

In one fluid motion, Sam had taken the duffel bag away from Dean and shoved him, causing him to fall on the bed. “In the morning.”

Eyes flashing green, Dean bounded back to his feet. “I say we go, we go.”

“I don’t think so,” said Sam, moving to stand chest to chest with Dean. Without warning, he shoved Dean again. This time, he followed him as he fell back on the bed. Using his one advantage of surprise, Sam straddled him, relying on all his skill and strength to pin Dean down.

“Goddamn it, Sam!” shouted Dean, struggling for leverage to free himself. The unmistakable sound of metal clicking home caused him to freeze. He twisted his head back and up, confirming his wrists had been effectively handcuffed to the metal rods of the headboard. “What the fuck!? This is no time for games, Sam!”

“There is for this one,” said Sam, easing off Dean. Taking a moment to compose himself, he looked down at Dean yanking against the handcuffs. The vicious uncaring force of Dean’s struggles tore at him as he undressed as quickly as he could.

“Unlock these damn cuffs right now!” yelled Dean, rolling over. He twisted around until he could kneel and gain more leverage to better attack the metal rods of the head board. Despite his efforts, the headboard wasn’t giving an iota. Cursing, he continued to yank against the metal encircling his wrists, scraping and bruising the tender skin.

Sam moved back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Dean and trying to restrain him from seriously injuring himself. “If you really want me to undo those cuffs, you only have to speak one word, Dean.”

Breathing hard, Dean eventually stilled his struggles and bowed his head. Long minutes passed as he struggled with his consuming guilt. “I should have been faster.” 

“You’re only human, Dean,” said Sam, resting his head on his shoulder. “Despite your belief otherwise.”

Dean could only shake his head, refusing to accept there hadn’t been something he could have done quicker or better.

Sam could feel the tension vibrating through Dean as he held him. Placing a light kiss on the back of Dean’s neck he moved away. “Lie down.” It wasn’t a request.

Dean hesitated before slowly stretching flat on his stomach, hiding his face against his arm.

Taking his time, Sam removed Dean’s boots, socks and belt. Frowning, he studied the faded, thread bare jeans and worn washed T-shirt Dean was wearing. Leaning over Dean, he placed his lips close to his ear. “Are you okay with this?”

Dean nodded once, his entire body practically shaking with barely restrained tension and anger. Forced to stillness, Dean focused on the events of the hunt. People failed all the time, but when he did, people died.

Sam roughly tugged Dean’s T-shirt loose from his jeans. He ran the tip of his finger over Dean’s side where flesh met with denim and pursed his lips. Using his fingernail, he tried again, but still Dean didn’t react. Normally, Dean would twitch from the sensation, but there had been no reaction at all.

The sudden slap of Sam’s hand on his ass shocked Dean out of his self imposed hell. He lifted his head and twisted around, but Sam simply smiled and forced him to lie back down.

Satisfied that Dean was paying attention, Sam flicked open his pocket knife.

Dean shuddered at the sound, squeezing his eyes shut. Weapons had never been brought into play before and he waited for the sharp sting that Sam must be readying to inflict on him. Instead, he felt and heard the denim of his jeans being cut. Startled and outraged at the destruction of his clothes, Dean tried to squirm away. “Do you have any idea how much jeans cost?!”

Sam didn’t pause. “You’ve got to stay still, Dean, or I’ll be cutting more than your clothes. Besides, you needed a new pair.” He continued to slice Dean’s jeans up to his hip before starting on the other side. He tried to be careful, but with Dean’s constant squirming, he had inadvertently nicked him twice. When it came to the jockeys, he tugged them off down his legs.

Dean trembled as the cold steel caressed the back of his neck as Sam slipped the knife under the neckline of his T-shirt. He knew Sam had no intentions of doing him serious, or life threatening harm, but accidents had a way of happening. 

Making initial cuts on the soft cotton, Sam tore the shirt with his hands. He didn’t want anymore slips of the knife. The two shallow cuts, one on Dean’s hip, the other near his knee, had taken away his previous pleasure at having Dean at his mercy. There was a difference between controlled roughness and accidental harm and playing with a knife was just inviting such a disaster. He folded up the pocket knife and tossed it on the pile of Dean’s ruined clothes.

Dean breathed a little easier as the knife was tossed aside. That was one aspect he didn’t want to get acquainted with, afraid he might develop a penchant for it. The feel of Sam’s warm hands roaming over his shoulders and back allowed his thoughts to sink down to the darkness inside.

Sam watched as Dean’s hands clenched into fists. Certain it wasn’t him causing Dean to react, he needed to get him to let go of the guilt he was embracing. “Roll over.” 

It took a moment for Dean to comprehend what Sam had said, then awkwardly turned onto his back.

Sam frowned at the paleness of Dean’s face and the haunted look in his eyes. “You’re thinking too much.” Straddling Dean’s stomach, he cupped his face and leaned down to kiss him.

The tenderness of the kiss stole Dean’s breath away.

Sitting up, Sam smiled and then raised himself to his knees and moved up Dean’s body. Leaning forward he gripped the headboard and guided himself toward Dean’s mouth. “Open.”

Swallowing, Dean complied and allowed Sam to glide inside until he thought he would choke, before finally retreating. He had sucked Sam off before, but this was the first time he wasn’t in control of it.

Sam breathed heavily as he moved in and out of Dean’s mouth, trying to be careful and not go too deeply. The play of Dean’s tongue and the pressure from sucking quickly had him coming. Despite his intentions of not losing control, he couldn’t help thrusting hard and fast into Dean’s sweet, talented mouth.

Tears streamed down Dean’s cheeks as he tried not to choke, hoping Sam would soon finish and withdraw so he could breathe.

Looking down through half closed eyes, Sam realized Dean was having trouble and immediately pulled out. “Shit, Dean. I didn’t mean to . . . “

Dean shook his head, coughing to clear his throat. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” said Sam, appalled at what he had done. “We have safe words for when we can’t defend ourselves and I effectively took that away from you as well.”

“I wasn’t completely helpless,” coughed Dean, his voice rough. “I could have bit you.”

Sam cringed, but dropped the matter, not completely sure Dean would have hurt him to protect himself. “Roll back over.” This time he helped him back onto his stomach.

Dean bit his lower lip, confident he knew what was coming next. He tried to relax, to minimize the difficulty for Sam when he entered him. 

Moving between his splayed legs, Sam ran his hands up and down Dean’s back, working on the knots he found there. Gradually, he worked his way down to the back of his thighs, before pausing and opening the little surprise he had for Dean.

The familiar sound of Sam opening a packet pulled Dean from the darkness he had slipped into when his eyes had drifted closed and he shifted to his knees. His brother’s recovery time had been an inside joke between them and wasn’t surprised when Sam was ready to go again so soon. He felt Sam’s hands grip him on either hip and despite his best efforts tensed at the implications. Sam had fucked him before without preparing him, but he wondered if this time Sam would forego the lube as well.

Sam grinned as Dean’s center closed tightly and he leaned forward. Determined to give Dean something else to think about than what had happened earlier, he circled the tight opening before piercing him with his tongue. 

Dean jerked at the odd sensation, confused as to what exactly Sam was doing, then gasped as understanding hit him at the same time Sam wiggled his tongue inside him.

This was harder than Sam had thought, as he forced his tongue past the tightness of Dean’s opening. He tightened his grip as Dean jerked forward, his tongue slipping out of its hard won entrance.

“Sam . . . ,” groaned Dean, as once again he felt Sam’s tongue invade him.

Curling his tongue, Sam was rewarded with Dean pushing back and giving way to him. He darted his tongue in and out, teasing him with promises of what would come.

Hanging his head, Dean shivered with each flick of Sam’s tongue, which was not enough to satisfy his growing need.

“Agh.” Sam retreated and sat up, carefully removing the small tongue condom from his mouth. Eyes watering from the unexpected tongue cramp, he saw Dean looking over his shoulder and staring up at him. Working the kink out of his tongue, Sam held up his little surprise. “It’s a tongue condom.”

“Where . . . where in the hell did you get that?” gasped Dean, trying to ignore his almost desperate need for release.

“You have your secrets, I have mine,” smirked Sam, tearing open another condom and slipping it over his renewed erection. Taking his time, he coated himself as Dean continued to watch.

Dean dropped his head forward and closed his hands into fists, eager for Sam to block out everything else. Whenever he shut his eyes, the vision of the little girl would flash before him.

Remembering how Dean had successfully prevented him from being able to rock backward or forward, he gathered a pillow and placed it underneath him. Satisfied he wouldn’t be able to effectively move, Sam set about stretching him.

Frustrated at having his penance delayed, Dean wiggled and shifted. He even tried to push back on Sam’s long fingers, but Sam countered his limited movements. 

Gradually, Sam worked his fingers past the tight opening, lightly passing over the small nub nestled inside. He carefully avoided it until Dean once again relaxed and then lightly rubbed his prostate again. He continued this way, wondering how much Dean could take before begging to come.

“Sam!” yelled Dean, when Sam had teased him for a sixth time. He gripped the short chain of the handcuffs and abruptly pulled himself forward in an attempt to either dislodge the pillow or to use it to rub against.

“Whoa.” Sam quickly snagged Dean by the hips and tugged him back down. “Where are you going? I’m just getting started here.”

“You’re taking your sweet ever lovin’ time, asshole,” snapped Dean, losing the battle against Sam.

Sam’s eyebrows rose and he grinned slowly. Using his knees, he forced Dean’s legs further apart and slowly slid all the way home. Muscles clenched around him and he was glad he had Dean take the edge off earlier. Taking care not to stimulate Dean’s weeping cock, he reached around and fondled his heavy sacs. With utmost slowness, he slid in and out, hiking Dean’s obvious need even higher.

Tightening his muscles, Dean tried to get Sam to move faster and harder, but he maintained the same maddening pace. Unexpectedly, Sam withdrew completely and he groaned, swallowing a sob of frustration.

Edging back, Sam slipped the pillow free and nudged Dean to once again lie on his back.

“What the hell, Sam?” demanded Dean. He assumed Sam had decided to suck him off before finally taking him in the usual hard fashion that he needed now.

Dean’s agitation was undeniable by his tone and almost painful expression on his face and Sam almost gave in. Biting his lower lip, he held Dean’s gaze as he used his hands to urge Dean to allow him to settle once again between his legs. He moved forward until Dean’s legs were draped over his thighs.

Furrowing his brow, Dean obliged, only to inhale sharply as understanding dawned as to what Sam intended. They had never penetrated each other face to face. It might not seem to be a big deal, considering their relationship, but it had been a silent agreement that it would be too discomfiting for them to indulge in this particular position. On the possibly misplaced reasoning it placed the one receiving at an emotional disadvantage.

Sam hesitated. For this, he needed Dean’s permission, or he would back off. Waiting, he ran a hand up and down Dean’s leg. He watched as stunned understanding crossed Dean’s face, his heart racing as he silently asked permission.

Instinctively, Dean started to shake his head no. But the vision of the little girl taunted him, and to be able to concentrate of Sam’s face might help him replace the nightmare in his mind’s eye. Swallowing against a suddenly dry throat, he gave Sam the smallest of nods.

Sighing with relief, Sam leaned forward and sealed their lips together in slow, deep kiss, hoping to distract Dean from the initial entry this way. Scooting closer, he succeeded in lifting Dean upward onto his thighs and sinking back into him. His arms supported his long legs, practically bending Dean in half.

Tearing his mouth away from Sam’s devouring kiss, Dean squeezed his eyes shut as Sam slid directly over his prostate, sending electrical waves of pleasure through him.

Concentrating on moving slow and easy, Sam trailed his hand up and down Dean’s chest, lightly twisting each tiny pebble into rock hardness. Using his weight, he effectively prevented Dean from moving his hips, while his neglected cock twitched in the open space between them.

Every thrust and withdrawal tormented Dean, as Sam unerringly slid over the sweet spot that throbbed with the over stimulation. “Sam . . . .” Dean’s voice was deep and strained, his eyes never leaving Sam’s face.

Sam kept the angle and tempo as he rocked into Dean, fighting to keep control over his own pending orgasm.

Unable to withstand any more, Dean strained against the handcuffs. “ _Com. . . Compatior._ ”

Releasing his hold on Dean’s legs, Sam slipped an arm underneath Dean to hold him close while firmly stroking him with his fist.

The long denied stimulation had Dean arching back, his legs wrapped tight around Sam’s slender torso.

Sam snapped his hips forward, thrusting hard and fast, pushing them both over the edge.

A soul rendering cry tore from Dean’s throat as his entire body went rigid, waves of pleasure washed over him.

Nestled deep inside Dean, Sam panted as velvet muscles twitched around his softening cock. Too soon, he slipped free, severing their connection. He stirred to retrieve the key to unlock the handcuffs, but paused long enough to capture Dean’s mouth once more in a soul searing kiss.

The release of his wrists sent minor twinges along his arms and Dean grimaced. He felt boneless as Sam cleaned them up before spooning behind him.

“Not all your demons need to be slain by pain, Dean,” murmured Sam, wrapping Dean in a tight embrace, tangling their legs together.

With a shuddering sigh, Dean surrendered himself into the shelter of Sam’s embrace.


End file.
